


Barton Ranch (or Twelve Days of Christmas, Avengers style)

by VendelynSilverhawk



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Always a girl Tony, Antonia Stark - Freeform, Clint Barton had a farm, F/M, Family Avengers, Gen, Multi, Rule 63, Toni Stark - Freeform, Twelve Days Of Christmas, christmass fluff, instance of self-harm, many feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 06:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2956361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VendelynSilverhawk/pseuds/VendelynSilverhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Toni proposes a road trip to Clint's farm for Christmas, she hopes that the world will just give them this one moment of peace to bond, and maybe actually become a family, considering the disaster that was the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., and that currently is Bucky Barnes.<br/>What follows is... far more personal than she ever wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barton Ranch (or Twelve Days of Christmas, Avengers style)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shiphard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiphard/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a really short one-shot as a gift for (fanfiction.net's myPARABATAIisbetterthanyours) shiphard (look her up here on ao3!) but then... it got long.  
> Basically it's the Ultimate Avengers Family Fic and is an unofficial prequel to my Stoni fic "Honesty of the Art" but you by no means need to read that one (although you should!)  
> Have fun.  
> And maybe cry.  
> Happy late Christmas.

"Say hello to... _THE AVENGERS PARTY BUS_!" Toni declared, throwing her arms wide as if to encompass the whole of the enormous red, gold, and black vehicle parked in the Tower garage.

                Clint blinked, and turned to Natasha, signing- _Should I have had my hearing aids on for that?_

                She signed back a quick _Definitely not_ before Toni caught sight of the two of them. Hands on her hips, she shot them a withering look.

                "Attention here and ears on, bird brain! You're the one who proposed this trip anyway, and I have now declared that we are going to make it in style."

                "When I said 'let's go to my place' I meant with a plane, Toni," Clint said once his ears were on, gesturing helplessly at the vehicle. In the well-lit garage it practically glowed with Iron Man colors, but on the side in glossy black letters it read _Avengers_ , like a target for all of their enemies- and crazy fans. Toni threw up her hands and turned to Steve.

                "What do _you_ think, Steve?" she asked, and thankfully didn't notice him hesitate. "No, don't answer- it's amazing, I know."

                Steve traded a glance with Natasha while Toni wasn't looking. Luckily, Thor provided a sudden and welcome distraction by booming out "This giant metal carriage, I like it!"

                "Thank you, Thor," Toni purred.

"It will do nicely for our travel to Barton's home, I think," he continued, walking over and inspecting it with fascination. Thor was long used to Midgard, having spent the past full year here after the incident in Greenwich, but he was still filled with wonder at the machinations of things like cars, coming from a culture that relied largely on horses except in battle scenarios, and even then their technology was so superior that Midgard was like reverting to the stone age.

                As Toni let everyone onto the bus to explore- cue a fish tank, gaming system, rollout kitchenette, several bunk beds, and a roundabout couch in the back to watch the road- Bucky hung back, looking uncertain. When Toni caught sight of him she hopped off of the step into the diver's seat.

                "Tin Man? You ok there, Bucky?" she asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face. He started somewhat, but soon his blue-green eyes zeroed in on her.

                "I... I don't know if I can... car," he said, gesturing uselessly at the "party bus."

                Toni took his metal hand and practically dragged him toward it, something almost desperate in her gaze.

                "Come on, you'll love it. I even left you bottom bunk, and there's _Portal_ for the x-box."

                "I hate puzzle games," Bucky deadpanned. Toni latched onto the spare bit of humor and used it to push Bucky into the bus with everyone else.

                "Says the guy who's been trying to figure out if he likes turkey since Thanksgiving. Get in there- we leave in the morning so you'd better get used to it. And pack warmly!"

 

*

The road grew darker and darker, and everyone's movements more and more sluggish as the quiet hum of night driving settled over them. At the wheel Steve looked as alert as ever, and as Toni popped in her headphones she reached a hand across the space between their seats. Even though he didn't move his gaze from the road, Steve let one hand drift away from the wheel so he could clasp her fingers.

Behind them the rest of their comrades had spread out and embraced the night.

Thor was sleeping peacefully in his bunk, one giant arm flopped over into the air and his face mashed into the pillow. Farther back Clint and Tony were still battling on _Super Smash Brothers_ , their occasional noises of victory or despair filtering to the front of the bus. They couldn't pierce the small bubble of calm that surrounded Antonia Stark and her boyfriend, though. Neither could the scent of Bruce's incense while he meditated or the clicking from Natasha's in-progress gun cleaning. Bucky's light snores from the gently rocking bunk beneath Thor.

They were in their own world, orbiting the same sun and passing ever closer on each rotation. Toni leaned her head against Steve's shoulder and let her eyes drift shut.

*

"So, um... welcome to the farm, I guess," Clint said, rubbing the back of his neck as the rest of the Avengers took in the massive farmhouse and adjoining barn, having left the massive party bus a mile behind them to get through the dense trees surrounding the property.

"'It's practically a shack,' you said," Toni said somewhat breathlessly. "'Nothing to freak out about,' you said. Nothing to freak out about?!"

"Well it isn't!" Clint exclaimed, but by then Toni was no longer listening. Grabbing Steve by the hand, she practically dragged him up the porch stairs, flinging open the front door and bounding inside, leaving the rest of the Avengers out in the winter air.

"I'm proud of you," Natasha murmured, resting her chin on Clint's shoulder and looking up at the house with perceptive green eyes.

Neither of them had exchanged more than a few words since they left the tower two days ago, even though being cooped up in the bus they had had plenty of opportunities. Ever since Clint suggested they do something for the holidays, since none of them had any real family and it wasn't like they could afford to split up for that long anyway, what with defending the world on a monthly basis and everything, Natasha had been hovering on the edges of his vision. There and not as a quiet presence that didn't judge, but didn't seem happy either. Even now Clint couldn't get a read on her, which was more than a little disconcerting. Even when she was lying, he knew that she knew he knew, so that was ok. This?

This was weird.

"Well, it's not really a safehouse anymore, so... I was thinking a real house?" here he looked over at her, barely-concealed hope on his features. When Natasha's arms wrapped around his waist and he felt the warmth of her breath on his neck, he knew he was done for.

"Just as soon as these idiots leave," she breathed. Suddenly Clint was grinning as he waved the rest of the Avengers forward.

"Welcome to Barton Ranch- no, that's not its real name," he narrated as they walked towards the porch, Natasha now striding next to him.

Yeah, maybe it'd be a good Christmas after all.

*

"Where are all the decorations?" Toni yelled when they were in the entrance hall, her leaning against the upper stair banister with Steve next to her. There was a thoroughly affronted look on her face.

"What?" Clint said, and Toni groaned.

"Come on, Barton- first family Christmas, we're doing it right. I'm calling Pepper."

_First family Christmas._

It was jarring, but Toni was right. They'd known each other for two years, but had never been together for the holidays, too busy avenging things and dealing with their individual troubles.

Until S.H.I.E.L.D.

_Until Bucky._

Suddenly Toni was bounding up the stairs shouting about attics and cell phone service and clearing space for a tree, and Steve was following. Clint gave up on a tour and invited everyone to spread out and explore.

"No fighting over rooms, please!" he called as Thor continued onto the backyard porch and Bruce ambled up the stairs, knuckles still tight around his suitcase handle. Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly at the tenseness in his shoulders, and she made a mental note to meditate with him later. New places weren't friendly to Bruce, especially one that looked as old and rickety as this one- it would be like a house of toothpicks to the Hulk.

Curious, she floated away from Clint and started into the most immediate room, humming "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas" softly in her throat. She would need to find every nook and cranny of this place before she turned in tonight or she'd never sleep, not even in Clint's arms. Old habits die hard.

The music in her throat sputtered and died when she saw the row of pictures on the fireplace mantle. Dimly she registered the rest of the room- large windows lining the front wall with lacey curtains and eggshell blue furniture, a low glass coffee table and lamps- along with the hardwood floor beneath her feet, but nothing grabbed her attention like the large fireplace that nearly consumed the whole wall. There was a yawning, soot-covered space for firewood and above it a curling cream mantle covered in photographs.

They were all of her.

The air was ringing- or maybe it was quiet- and she could feel the beating of her heart with every step forward she took, until she was close enough to pick up the closest picture and brush the dust from the glass.

_Italy_

_"Stop it," she laughed, swiping for the camera before letting her hands fall limp on the bed. Clint stuck his tongue out at her and took the picture anyway, reveling in triumph. If she really wanted the machine in pieces, it would be, but that almost-grab was consent, and he would make full use of it._

_"Here we go," he murmured. As he climbed onto the bed with her he showed her the print coming into focus from the mouth of the old camera, color and detail bleeding in until she took it delicately in her fingertips._

_"We'll have to burn it," she said, looking at him. His gaze was riveted on the picture. "We can't leave any evidence."_

_"I know."_

It was the print she'd told him to destroy, because even if he kept it on him there was always the chance it would fall into enemy hands- or the hands of their superiors- and that would endanger the mission. In it she was upside down on a hotel bed, in nothing but her black lace panties and one of Clint's civilian cover shirts- white linen that was only partially buttoned-up, sleeves pushed above her elbows. Tangled in the sheets with the sun shining gold and fiery through her then-blonde hair, Natasha felt like she was looking at a cover story, something photoshopped to convince her target that she was Natalie, Tatiana, Aliyah.

"Why?" she murmured, because she couldn't guess, or wouldn't. She only pretended like she knew everything, and that extended to Clint Barton sometimes.

"Because I was stupid enough to hope." She could feel his presence behind her, not heat or a feel in the air or even his breath ruffling her hair, but the absolute surety that could never be mistaken for anything but Clint.

The rest of his sentence went unspoken, but she could have filled it in herself. Where he was concerned, sometimes she was stupid, too.

_I was stupid enough to hope that we wouldn't always have to hide._

"You always did get it right before I did," she said suddenly. Placing the picture back on the mantle, she settled her forehead against his and closed her eyes, pinpricked by the glow of the fading sun through the windows.

A good Christmas.

*

Toni made good on her promise to call Pepper, and the next morning the Stark Industries CEO was pulling up with a trailer of Christmas behind her.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is Pepper Potts wearing normal people shoes?" Toni exclaimed, leaning against the porch railing and shielding her eyes against the sun where it pierced through the clouds.

"You have no concept of 'normal,' Toni," Pepper shot back, but she visibly perked up at Toni's teasing tone. Height no longer emphasized by the five-inch heels she so preferred, Pepper was almost as tall as the average woman, but still towered over Toni when she finally reached the porch.

"Hey, is Sam with you? I kept calling him but Steve said something about him needing 'personal space' after tramping across Europe after Bucky," Toni asked once their hug was over. She looked anxiously over Pepper's shoulder, but the car was empty except for Pepper's new bodyguards.

"He's spending Christmas with family in Virginia, but he said he'd stop by for a few days as soon as he can," Pepper explained.

Toni crowed and on the porch even Steve cracked a smile. After the events of the past year- the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., Bucky's return at summer's end, finally reaching his six-month anniversary with Toni and living through it (only Sam was sober enough at the end of the "anniversary party" to remember what went on, and since Steve still couldn't get him to say he'd merely promised himself never to drink Asgardian alcohol again)- he had been slow to smile and even more relentless in pursuing the death of laughter. The most cool-headed of the group most of the time, Sam was one thing that never failed to put Steve in a good mood. Regardless of his own life, Sam never brought drama to the table and was as selfless as Steve in attempting to help others resolve their own.

Of course, he _still_ hadn't accepted Toni's invitation to officially join the Avengers. _Rude._  

"He's missing out- I was going to make fruitcake later today," Natasha said from her seat on the porch railing, balancing with ease despite the questionable integrity of the ancient wood.

"Oh, if Natasha's baking, I'm staying the afternoon," Pepper said. Then she snapped her fingers and the bodyguards got out of the car, one of them going to unhook the trailer. "Everyone, this is Tomas and Felicia. Tomas and Felicia, meet the Avengers. I'm sure they'll keep me very safe while you unload."

"Of course, Mrs. Potts," Felicia said, but her almond-shaped eyes still looked unsettled when she turned her back on Pepper and headed to the trailer with Tomas.

"I don't know them," Toni said suddenly, scrutinizing the suited man and woman while they pulled out boxes of unopened Christmas decorations. "Why don't I know them? I thought I knew every employee in the company!"

"They're recent hires, very trustworthy," Pepper soothed, a bemused smile on her face as Toni's forehead scrunched in annoyance.

"I'll be the judge of that," she said. Then she whipped out her tablet, ignoring Pepper's look and Steve's eye-roll as he came down the porch.

"Here, let me help you with that," Steve said, when Felicia emerged from the trailer with a box taller than she was.

"Thank you, Captain Rogers," she huffed, letting half of it rest in his hands but refusing to let him take it completely. In her thick-soled boots and movement-tailored suit, black hair pulled back into a smart bun, she was as prepared as a bodyguard could be for trouble. Together they made their way to the house, and the rest of the Avengers quickly scattered to help Tomas unpack Christmas.

When Thor lifted the massive box of lights and garlands strapped to the top of the trailer with one hand, Tomas' mouth fell slightly. Then the friendly Asgardian balanced it on his shoulder and made a clear gesture for Tomas to hand him something else. The bronze-skinned man wordlessly handed him a box of what looked like ornaments, and was rewarded with a wide smile.

Pepper had truly pulled out all the stops, and with all of the Avengers helping soon the house was a winter wonderland. Pumpkin spice and Christmas candles littered every room, Steve piled new firewood beside every fireplace in the house- there were _five_ -, red and green throw blankets replaced the older quilts, a brand-new Avant-garde cresh appeared in the middle of the glass coffee table, glittery gold and silver stars hung from the dining room ceiling and there were wreaths on every outside door, wooden reindeer on the porch. It could have been something out of a homemaker's catalogue, complete with Christmas recipe books that Bruce practically drooled over, considering he was the only one who could actually cook.

When Pepper enlisted Thor to help her drag the giant red bag of gifts from the trailer, Steve practically fell over himself insisting that she hadn't needed to get them anything, that she had so much on her plate already and they already appreciated her help with the house-

"Steve, I'm allowed to give gifts, I'm a CEO," she said delicately. "Besides, you can't open them until Christmas."

"Whaaaaaat!" Clint moaned, staring longingly at the bag slung over Thor's shoulder. "But that's, like, a year away!"

"Twelve days, Clint," Natasha corrected him. "I think you can make it."

"I don't know, Tasha," he said gravely. Pepper chuckled and steered the bag of gifts inside, where they sat waiting beneath the stairwell for the perfect tree to be spread around.

"Who wants eggnog?" Bruce called from the kitchen, practically glowing.

"How did you make that so fast?"

"I had a lot of time on my hands trying to keep the big guy calm," Bruce's voice explained.

"So, what, you took up eggnog?" Clint asked, drawn to the smell of the Christmas drink.

"If I was having a good year," Bruce said. The small wrinkles around his eyes were at once lines of stress and laughter. With any luck, this would be a good year.

*

"Hello Bucky," Pepper said politely, when she noticed that the supersoldier hadn't immediately jumped to join the others in the kitchen for eggnog.

"Hi..."

"Pepper," she said, extending a hand and hoping she had a warm expression on her face.

She'd only see Bucky once since he came home, but had Toni give her frequent updates while Bucky was recovering in the tower. During the Winter Soldier fallout, Stark Industries had dealt with all the legalese involving Bucky being cleared for crimes as the Winter Soldier, and lobbying for him to be reinstated and compensated for his time as a POW. In all that time she had sifted through files and files, making sure she knew the man who was staying with her best friend and the team. What she had found was... no less shocking than what the rest of the world knew, at that point, but it put into new light just who Steve was trying to bring back from Europe. The cat-and-mouse had lasted too long for her comfort, but in the end Bucky had been dragged home, looking like a wet cat, with an exhausted Steve and Sam behind him.

Since then? Only weekly updates, such as "He still has nightmares," and "He responds to his name now," or, Pepper's favorite, "We figured out today that he really really hates peanut butter, and really really loves Natasha. I have no fucking idea."

The man hovering in the open doorway of the house with barely a shiver given to the chill air wafting over them was not what Pepper had imagined, having seen only photographs of the Winter Soldier and James Buchannan Barnes before he fell. This man was ghosting somewhere between both of them.

Still, he looked good, long hair pulled back into a short ponytail, dressed in all black but at least they were normal clothes.

"I'm-"

"Toni's friend," Bucky said, eyeing her hand with uncertainty. He automatically reached out with his metal one, then seemed to catch himself and pull his fingers back. Before they could curl into a fist Pepper's arm shot forward. Her fingers were between his before either of them could move.

When she looked at him, he wasn't breathing. Then a long exhale escaped him and he swallowed.

They shook hands. His arm was cold.

"Yes, I'm Toni's friend," Pepper said. "I'm also the head of her company, and I finance the Avengers. It's nice to meet you."

"You're the one who got me cleared," Bucky murmured, as though he hadn't heard anything she just said. All of Pepper's research into POWs and traumatized people had told her to just roll with it, so she pretended like it wasn't unsettling being addressed and yet completely ignored.

"It was a team effort, but yes. Somehow world politics gets a lot easier when money has a clear agenda," she joked. He blinked.

"Ok then... shall we get eggnog?"

The frown lines on his forehead only deepened at that, and she wondered if they'd had eggnog in the 1940s, if he'd ever had a really nice Christmas at all, if this was just the brain damage talking. Either way, she looped her arm in his and started walking before he could stop her, uttering quick and fervent prayers that she wasn't doing something terribly wrong.

"Come on, you'll love it."

Maybe it _was_ finally time to put a therapist on payroll.

*

Day One

Pepper left early in the morning. There were four separate nightmares and one giant Avengers Meditation Seminar before breakfast.

No one knew what Thor dreamed about, but after seeing his "in the zone" expression, no one asked.

It was strange to think that their giant blond guardian had unsettling dreams.

*

Day Two

The whole house was explored to its farthest corners. The attic appeared to satisfy Bucky, even though he slept in his bed because it made Steve happy. Steve called Sam and begged him to come, because none of them could quite grasp the idea of "Christmas spirit" with Pepper gone.

Stuck in their own little worlds, it was no surprise that they didn't realize that for many of them, this would be their first Christmas with friends and family in a long time. 

Or... ever.

Also, Clint had a dog.

*

Day Three

The whole house was resplendent in green and white and red, garlands on every stairwell and mistletoe in each of the doorways. Steve quickly put a stop to that one, because obviously they couldn't follow that tradition whenever two people were under a doorway, but every time he took it down it mysteriously appeared in one giant hanging rope above his and Toni's bedroom door. Not one to ignore the Christmas spirit, Toni took advantage of this whenever she could, and eventually Steve stopped messing with the mistletoe whenever it reappeared in _every single doorway._

"Are you saying you don't like kissing me, Rogers?" Toni asked that morning when the mistletoe outside their door was gone- Steve had ruefully told the empty hallway last night that he'd stop messing with it, and it had promptly disappeared by the time the sun came up. Leaning against the doorframe in nothing but a red AC/DC t-shirt and snowflake pajama shorts, her dark curls mussed from sleep, she looked absolutely gorgeous and for a split-second Steve wished the mistletoe rogue had thought to leave them at least one sprig.

                "No, but it makes for a rather unproductive day if we can't even get out of our bedroom in the morning," Steve said amiably, crossing his arms. Toni huffed and sauntered back into the room.

                "You and I have very different definitions of 'productive,'" she called.

They had a very 'productive' morning, and somewhere Clint Barton was laughing as he re-hung mistletoe above Natasha's doorway.

Sam arrived later that day in a leather jacket and licorice red Ferrari, Toni's not-so-subtle bribe to get him to join the Avengers. His talk of his grandmother's cooking and his little sister's insistence that he get Thor's signature were like faerie stories to the team of Lost Boys and Girls.

                That night, they lit the fireplace for the first time and even talked about getting a tree.

*

Day Four

It very quickly became a kiss-fest, and after Natasha and Bruce got crowded under mistletoe in the kitchen- she gave him a kiss on the cheek and he settled for a hug- and Thor and Toni tried to duck into the living room at the same time- it was obnoxious, the noises they made, even though later Thor told Steve that he wouldn't dare touch Toni outside of this Midgardian tradition that for some reason required lip-locking when coming into contact with a plant- Steve learned to time his entrances and exits into every room to avoid being locked with anyone, even Toni.

"It's not that I object to kissing a fella," he said once, when he and Sam turned a corner at the same time and bumped chests beneath a fat wad of the plant. "But-"

"Professionalism, I get it," Sam said quickly, raising his hands as if there were a wall between them. "Besides, you aren't _that_ handsome, Rogers."

In response, Steve bowed his head and moved to the side to let Sam through. The other man was almost through the doorway when Steve muttered "Ladies first, Wilson."

What ensued was not, unfortunately, the "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" that Thor and Toni were shouting, but a scuffle between two broad-shouldered superheroes who almost got stuck in the farmhouse's miniscule entryway, until Thor finally just shoved them out on the same side into the kitchen.

                Steve straightened and muffled a curse while Sam cracked his back beside him. Then his gaze alight on Bucky, leaning against the counter tossing a red apple up and down in his metal hand and looking at him with a deadpan gaze.

                "Way to lend me a hand, Buck," Steve said, and the ex-assassin's eyes narrowed.

                "That would have been a bit counterproductive," he mused, turning the apple over in his hands and pointedly not looking at Steve. Steve's jaw practically hit the floor as his eyes flickered to Sam, still stretching and muttering about "damned serum- super palates more like it."

                "You traitor!" Steve cried, at the same time Bucky started flipping his smartphone- Toni's gift, because it made Steve happy- in his flesh and blood hand.

                "I was gonna take a snapchat and send it to that republican senator, what's his face- the one that tried to say Captain America would support keeping Don't Ask Don't Tell?" he said. "Of course, you ruined that too. Can't do anything right these days, can you?"

                The underlying tone of affection- and the fact that he couldn't disagree with Bucky's intended prank- kept Steve from continuing on his path of righteous indignation, and instead he held out a hand. Bucky tossed him the apple, and peace was made, much to Toni's disappointed sigh.

                "Have your phone ready, Bucky- next time we'll get him," Toni said. Steve groaned, then she pulled him under the mistletoe.

*

Day Five

Sam, upon learning that Bucky still had not seen _Frozen_ , declared a movie morning; what followed was Not His Fault, and it happened like this:

                _Frozen_ puns.

 _Frozen_ puns _everywhere._

After watching a sister relationship disintegrate because of ice, Bucky wasn't exactly in the brightest of moods, especially after he got "Love will thaw a frozen heart" thrown at him seven different times and in several different languages.

                When it started snowing, of course, it was the perfect time for Steve to ask, "Hey Bucky, do you wanna build a snowman?"

                "FUCK OFF STEVE."

"Ok bye...." Steve murmured, letting Toni pull him back on the sofa and kiss the kicked-puppy look off of his face. Bucky scowled into a pillow and kicked his feet up on the coffee table.

In an attempt to lift spirits, Clint tried his hand at baking. Three runs later and Natasha slid an arm around his waist, saying softly, "I think you need to let it go, Clint." She got an icing gun to the head for her troubles.

                Clint got near-decapitation for his.

 Nothing, of course, was greater than Thor earnestly explaining how the ancient language used in many of the songs in the movie was actually a derivation of old Asgardian, one of the languages L- well, his brother, used to study. His baritone was rusty, but beautiful in its own way as he sang as Asgardian carol that sounded like a sleigh rushing over rocks, hooves clattering in time with bells ringing out through frigid air.

                Toni sighed and buried her face in the crook of Steve's neck, body curled into him. She was warm, warm, and he couldn't even feel the arc reactor's cold edge against his heart.

                Outside the snow kept falling, until it blanketed the house and the clearing and the barn, and it was decided that they were all better off indoors.

*

Day Six

Dust floated golden and wafting through the air, early morning sun slanting through the warped slats of the roof and walls to bathe everything in amber. Outside the mist was burning away to reveal the empty plain and farther copse of trees, from the deepest of the fog the upright silhouette of the farmhouse steadily coming into focus. Not even the wind chill dared to shiver into the barn.  Everything was shrouded in the calm between birdsong and creeping stairs.

Everything but the figure in the rafters.

Silent feet crept across the high-wire strung just below the airy roof, arms steady to keep balance and eyelashes catching the golden dust. He breathed in and out-

_In_

_Out_

_Draw back._

String tugging against his arm, the high-wire archer let it settle against his cheek.

                _In_

_Out_

_Up._

His back was straight, knees barely bent, nothing between him and the floor but a few gym mats and piles of jay. The arrow flew and there was barely a tremor on the wire.

                Bullseye.

                _"Merry Christmas little bro," Barney laughed. There was still tape over the bridge of Clint's nose, but his nimble fingers- two splinted- played with the shiny silver dollar he'd just opened, reflecting the light in his brother's eyes._

"Clint?"

                He shot again- just outside the target's red center ring.

                To his left there was the sound of movement through hay-strewn floors, then one soft _creak_ before there was the dip of another body on the wire. Looking over, he saw that she was in her black and red workout clothes, red hair still bed-messed around her shoulders. Her green eyes glowed in the soft light of the barn.

                Shadows lengthened with the sun, but neither of them moved for the space of five heartbeats- five years. Then she was next to him, hand on his cheek, toes pointed as she balanced. He turned his hearing aids up.

                "For once I'd like to wake up with you next to me," she murmured.

                "I could say the same."

                She rested her head on his shoulder.

                "Maybe we'll make a resolution on New Year's."

*

There were no animals in the barn, except the occasional bird's nest, so Clint and Natasha didn't disturb anyone as they went through each routine. It was an amalgam of Clint's circus days and Natasha's multi-discipline training, and they made full use of the high wire, mats, balance beam, and trapeze set up on either side of the massive barn. By the time the mist was gone outside there was a slight sheen of sweat on Natasha's forehead, and Clint's hands were almost slick against her bare stomach when he lifted her on the beam.

                It felt good to do this again, to strengthen her body and revel in knowing that it was for no one but herself, that there were no weapons, no death, no body quota to fill.

                Once upon a time she would have called the idea of doing mock-circus routines with an ex-criminal childish.

                "We could do this, if crime fighting ever gets old," Clint said as he lowered her. She spun away lightly on the beam and lifted a leg into the air, breathing in slowly.

                "The World's Mightiest Circus?" she huffed.

                "You bet. We already have the costumes," Clint replied. He leapt down onto the mats, and Natasha jumped on top of him so that he lowered her down next to him, hands again firm around her torso.

                "I like my costume."

                "I do, too."

                There was still dust flying and golden light and long shadows, and Clint' slips were sweet, sweet like summer honey as the outside chill rolled over their bodies.

                "So... are we ever gonna have that conversation?" Clint asked suddenly when they finally broke away, foreheads resting against each other's and hands curled around each other's waists.

                Natasha scowled, lines of concern appearing between her eyes as she looked at the floor. That was when Clint's stomach began to sink, because Natasha wasn't one to avoid eye-contact out of being uncomfortable- that meant she was thinking, and didn't want anyone else to read it in her eyes until she was done.

                "Do you want to have it?" she asked at last, green eyes flicking up to meet his. He sighed.

                "I think we need to, Tasha, especially after..."

                This time she let her confusion show on her face. Here in a barn in the middle of nowhere, and with Clint no less, she had nothing to hide. "After what?"

                Clint moved away with a small huff, sitting on the balance beam with one hand running through his short dirty blonde hair.

                "Come on, the whole Mother Duck routine with Bucky?" Natasha's expression immediately shut down at Clint's words, so he continued before she could say- or do- anything. "Every time Steve is gone, he's with you. Whenever he has nightmares, half the time I know he goes to your room. You braided his hair and sang him lullabies once, for Pete's sake!"

                "We have a history," she said tightly, hands relaxed at her sides but Clint could see the tension running up and down her fingers.

                "I know, and I'm not mad or accusing you of anything- the guy needs help, and I've been happy to give it, too- but it's not just him, Tasha. You just... I don't know. It seems like the happiest I've seen you lately is when he knocks on your door and says he can't sleep, because you get the chance to take care of someone," Clint explained softly. As the implications of his words sank in, Natasha took a step back and looked away, profile outlined by the sun slanting through the barn. The others would be waking soon in the house, another day of almost-cheer with something still broken inside them, something not working, not moving right, because _they_ still didn't know how to fit together at more than a team.

                As a family.

                God, he wanted a _family._

                "Italy," she murmured. He nodded, swallowed past a throat like sandpaper.

                "Yeah. Italy."

                When she looked back at him there was something rising in her eyes that scared him but was also the most exciting thing he'd seen in years, and her mouth opened-

                "Looks like we all had the same idea for an early morning workout," a voice said, and instantly Natasha and Clint's heads whipped around to look at the barn entrance. Silhouetted in the gaping doorway was Sam, leaning against the doorframe with a smile.

                "Birds of a feather, I guess," Natasha said mischievously, the look gone from a moment ago.

                Clint groaned. "Take your lame jokes and get out of my barn, Tasha."

                Her green eyes stared into his with the most severe expression he could imagine on her.

                "Hi Lame Jokes, I'm dad."

                "Oh my _God, Tasha_!" Clint yelled, leaping up and kicking hay at her. Sam was laughing as he approached, and the barn felt a little warmer, but when he looked at Natasha's eyes he couldn't shake the feeling of something having been lost, too.

*

Day Seven

It was her first nightmare since Avengers Meditation Night, and Toni woke with the urge to set their new Christmas tree on fire.

                She panted hard in the dark, fists bunching in the sheets as she struggled for breath. Images like old film reeled through her head, burning and fractured and spilling from the machine-

                _Howard passed her a long tube covered in snowflake wrapping paper, which she tore apart with fervor. Inside the white tube were blueprints, and at the bottom was a name- Antonia Stark. Her eyes widened in delight as she took in the plans-_ her _plans- for the new arc reactor._

_"I'm proud of you, Antonia," he said. Behind him, the Christmas tree had never been brighter._

Then the tree was falling and it smelled like whiskey-

                _Her mother had only had a bit to drink but Maria, always adept at dealing with the media, was losing it without Howard. When she held Toni close the smell of her shampoo was smothering, wet hair in tangles. There was a mountain of presents under the tree but Howard's six-month absence ached like a wound._

_"Jarvis," Maria croaked, pulling away from Toni and reaching for her glass again._

_"Yes, Madame?"_

_"Take Toni to bed, please."_

_Strong arms lifted her up into the air, and Toni smelled ginger bread on Jarvis' apron._

_"Come on, Miss Antonia. Shall I read you a story?"_

Whiskey whiskey and cold she had a mountain of presents each year but eventually she stopped asking for the gift she really wanted.

                _"Where are my parents?"_

_"Miss Stark, there's been an accident-"_

She snatched her phone off the nightstand and stumbled out of bed, palms smacking the floor. Her fingers shook when she lit up the screen and read;

                _Armor Deployment, 70%_

"Shut down," she said- or, tried to. Nothing got past her throat, and the number on the screen climbed higher.

                _75%_

"Shut down!"

                Jarvis' voice filled the room like a cold breeze.

                "Deactivating."

                Toni's forehead thudded against the floor just as something smacked into the wall by the bedroom window.

                It was 2am.

                "Fuck."

*

Toni was shaking too much to wear her armor back to the barn where she'd hidden it originally, and her mind couldn't slow down long enough for her to concentrate on making the pieces fly back by themselves.

                So she sat in the wet grass beneath the kitchen window, above which was the window to her and Steve's bedroom, and tried to convince herself that she should take the neural transmitters out of her arms. Having the suit come to her in a fight had been invaluable against the Mandarin last year, but this was the second time the suit had responded to her nightmares and taken the neural impulses from her dreams as Toni summoning it. What would have happened if it had fully assembled and just torn through the wall?

                Imagining Steve's face- _loving, patient, careful, not pitying, understanding-_ if he woke up to that sight made the gauntlet on the grass next to her twitch tiredly.

                She wasn't sure how long she sat there, shaking, eyes squeezed shut, fingers running up and down her arms where the transmitters were implanted just beneath the surface. Too keyed up to sit still and too shaken to move. The dregs of her shadowy dreams still clung to the edges of her mind.

                Letting her head lean back against the rough wood exterior of the house, she looked up at the night sky and the pink just barely touching the edges of the trees. The wet grass shivered up through her bare feet, soaking her pajama pants, sending ice across her bare shoulders and chest.

                _I should have grabbed a coat._

"Jarvis," she rasped, holding her phone up before her and but letting her eyes skate past it to let the tree line grow hazy.

                "Yes, miss?"

                "Read neural connection."

                "Neural connection at 50%."

                She let the phone drop, fingers clutched around it loosely. 50% was still too much to just put the suit away and forget about it. Her head drooped against one of her upraised knees.

                "If I may make a suggestion, miss, perhaps the transmitters are no longer strictly necessary, given the swift liquidation of the Mandarin threat and the relative security of current world affairs now that S.H.I.E.L.D. has been effectively liquidated."

                "Are you saying I'm paranoid?"

                "I'm merely observing that given your volatile mental state over the past two years, it would not be remiss to put a therapist on payroll."

                "Remind me why I decided an AI was a good idea?"

                "According to my databases, I was designed to fill the emotional void left by my namesake after he-"

                "Deactivate."

                There was water on her cheeks and it wasn't from the morning dew, but it froze on her skin all the same.

                Gradually her phone screen dimmed as Jarvis retreated, one last flare of blue signaling his farewell.

                "I am detecting a significant drop in body temperature."

                "Deactivate."

                The screen went black, Toni buried her head in her hands, and a tremor shook her body as the sun started to rise over the shadow beyond the clearing.

*

It was 2:30am when Bucky crawled into Steve's bed in nothing but snowflake pajama pants, rubbing his eyes tiredly and halfway through a yawn. Something in his brain pinged briefly when he realized that Toni was missing.

                "Steve," he muttered, only half-awake. When his metal arm came into contact with Steve's side the supersoldier shivered and blinked sleepily.

                "Wha-?" he yawned.

                "Toni's gone," Bucky said. In the darkness of the room there was only moonlight slanting through the blinds to illuminate the messy bed, the red glow of the ancient digital alarm clock on Steve's side of the bed.

                "Probably working," Steve said immediately, but there was more than a slight slur to his voice. Something in him was clearly still on Tower Time, where Toni was never in bed on time and hardly ever there when he woke up. Bucky wasn't complaining- he'd woken up with phantom faces in his brain again and since Clint and Natasha were almost certainly curled around each other down the hall, Steve was the only other option, a physical embodiment of the sun to burn the shadows away.

                "Can I sleep with you?" Bucky murmured. He could feel Steve's nod move the pillow, sheets rustling as he pushed his way forward in the dark. With his eyes closed it was just the sound of his breath whoosing in his lungs, still strong- reassuring- and suddenly his metal hand brushed flesh. Steve shivered again, and Bucky immediately moved away, but then there were two warm hands pulling him forward.

                Bucky pulled the covers higher over them and instantly felt heat wash across his body, Steve's presence and the abundance of blankets enough to sooth the ice in his veins and the prickling in his metal arm. The darkness closed in around them but this time it was comforting. It was just him and Steve, like old times, and somewhere Toni was probably stumbling around muttering about armor and theorems and new projects.

                A breath escaped his lips, and it didn't fog up the glass.

                For once, Bucky could see perfectly clearly. That morning, there were no dreams.

*

_BEEP!_

_BEEP!_

_BEEP!_

Harsh red tore through the white haze of sleep as rudely as Hydra soldiers pulling him out of cryo, and the analogy only served to wake the Soldier that always lurked beneath the surface of his skin.

                Rather than rising with the fluid grace of a trained killer, however, Bucky half-stumbled when he attempted to sit upright in the bed. Rubbing at one eye, he cracked it open to take in the gentle sunlight illuminating the room- and the offending alarm clock.

                7:05.

                With a growl that should have sounded menacing and, to Steve's sleeping ears, sounded more like a slightly annoyed feline, Bucky leaned over and let his metal fist fall clumsily in an attempt to turn off the machine. Although it lay in plastic pieces at the end of the onslaught, it was quiet, and that was all that really mattered. With a bone-weary sigh that indicated it was too much effort to move back to his side of the bed, Bucky slumped over.

                Steve let out a small "oof!" when Bucky's full weight settled across his chest, but eventually he just let his arm fall across the small of Bucky's back and settled his head deeper into his pillow. Both of them deserved a little more sleep.

*

When Steve finally woke up, Bucky was sprawled shirtless on top of him, and Toni was gone. Extricating himself slowly from Bucky, he left his best friend still sleeping- fitfully- and padded out of the room in search of Toni.

                He found her shivering, awake, haunted, outside of the house, surrounded by pieces of her armor.

                "Gonna yell, Steve?" she croaked, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes. He couldn't force words past his lips, something blocking his throat as he took in the scene- the lie.

                _You promised._

When he came back from Europe with Bucky, he didn't blame Toni for not having taken care of herself. He had left with no word, no warning, after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, and had reappeared with the assassin who murdered her parents in tow, so when JARVIS and Pepper told him she had worked herself into the ground developing new security protocols, new suits for the Avengers, watching ever possible news source covering S.H.I.E.L.D., he had taken the blame on himself.

                But Toni had a problem and both of them new it. She didn't trust people, didn't even trust herself, and her compulsion to create would destroy her if she wasn't able to put her faith in flesh and blood. Before they got on the road she had told him she was leaving the suit behind, as a sign of trust, and had shut down her projects for neural transmitters.

                The line of glowing blue dots beneath the skin of her forearms, and the pieces of dim red and gold armor scattered in the grass around her bare feet, were as prominent as the confession in her eyes.

                "No," he said, kneeling in front of her and nudging the Iron Man faceplate with one boot. "But that doesn't mean I'm not angry. I'm _furious_ , Toni- why would you-"

                "Because you were _gone_ ," Toni hissed, wrapping her arms around herself and staring him straight in the eye. Those blue, blue, blue eyes that used to make her feel free. Now she was in a cage surrounded by blue fire and it burned. "Because it's the only way I'll ever be safe."

                "This is _safe_?" Steve said, voice rising so it could probably be heard inside the house. He didn't dare touch her, but he gestured to the glowing blue transmitters beneath her skin and looked repulsed. "This is self-experimentation, Toni, and you don't need it. You're in a house with the Avengers, and we'd all die before we let anything happen to you. _You_ would die before you let someone hurt you."

                "Obviously, it's too late," she said scathingly, then pulled herself to her feet.

                Before Steve could say anything- and what could he have said?- someone stuck their head outside of the second-story window to the right of theirs.

                "Friends! Natasha and Clint say that there is a pond not too far from here that we may-" Thor's mouth snapped shut as soon as he saw them- in their pajamas, Toni barefoot, both disheveled and surrounded by pieces of the Iron Man armor. "I see I have disturbed you. Please forgive my intrusion."

                He began to retreat through the window, but before his head disappeared Steve summoned his best showboy smile.

                "I'd love to come skating with you guys, Thor, just give me a minute," he called up. Thor nodded and disappeared, looking grim. Steve didn't look back down at Toni.

                "I should have told you when I went after Bucky," he murmured, frowning at the sky, hands shoved into the pockets of his pajama pants. "But _you_ should have told me when anxiety became obsession."

                "Steve-"

                There was hurt etched deep, deep into the lines of his face as he turned away.

                "I'm going ice-skating. As that doesn't involve your armor, I suggest you don't join us."

                Toni fell back against the side of the house, hands balled into fists. Her throat was on fire.

*

As soon as Steve and the others were gone Toni picked up the pieces of the suit and carried it to the barn, rooting around until she found Clint's tools. They were old, some rusty, but they would work for what she had in mind.

                The knife slipped beneath her skin with barely a whisper as she bit down on the stick and forced herself to look.

                Her fingers had been twitching since S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, aching for tools, for gauntlets, for metal support because metal was immortal where flesh and blood could fail. Because she couldn't forget being terrified for Steve when she realized what S.H.I.E.L.D. was, when she realized he'd gone running a continent away after an assassin who wanted to kill him, when his USO disappeared with him and he became a ghost even to the people he loved.

                He _loved_ her. He'd told her that, and it had taken her a long time to believe. Just long enough for it to seem like a lie when he disappeared. 

                But he came home. He came _home_. He kept his promises.

                I _promised._

                First one transmitter, then the next, then the next, until all four were out of her skin and laying on the wooden workbench in a pool of blood. Toni bit down harder on the stick to keep from screaming as she wrapped gauze around the gaping puncture wounds in her skin and bound her arms tight. She felt light-headed.

                She felt terrified.

*

When Thor trudged downstairs, he found the other avengers already suited up in their winter gear, skates slung over their shoulders, looking at him expectantly. He shook his head, and Natasha stepped forward with a frown.

                "What is it?" she asked. Thor rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and looked each of his teammates in the eyes before speaking.

                "Barnes still sleeps," he started, and Natasha nodded knowingly.

                "That's fine. He could use some more rest," she said. Clint slung an arm around her shoulders with a small smile, so Thor knew that Bucky hadn't gone to Natasha last night. Since the former Winter Soldier came home, Thor had noticed his dependence upon Natasha and Steve as human walls for his nightmares, had not seen any weakness in asking for help where it was needed, but it was still good to see Natasha and Clint having the time _they_ needed. Sometimes Midgardians could not see clearly, but the relationship in his new team were tangled and precarious, and it worried Thor.

                "What about Steve and Toni?" Natasha asked. Thor sighed, heart heavy in the event of recounting the grievous fight he'd overheard.

                "Steve will join us, but I fear that all is not well between him and Toni," he said simply. "When I saw them, they were almost shouting, and pieces of the Iron Man armor were on the ground between them."

                No one looked surprised, but Bruce suddenly looked exceedingly sad.

                "I told her not to bring it," he murmured, and Thor frowned at him. "Toni... has dependency issues."

                "So what happened?" Sam asked, looking concerned. Just then the back door opened, though, and Steve came through the kitchen with not a small amount of noise. When he saw the others standing by the door he instantly sped up, brushing past Thor on the stairs.

                "Sorry, I'll be right down," he said.

                "You're fine, man," Sam said, but Steve was already gone.

                "Well, shit."       

*

Toni was pulled out of her stupor by sounds of pain. Stumbling, she rose from the workbench and ventured further into the barn from her small alcove, where her armor rested patiently. Past Clint's gymnastics materials, high-wire strung above her and bows lining a wall, past the empty horse stalls and into the back where it was wreathed in dust and shadow.

More pained noises, a grunt followed by a quick intake of breath, the kind used to swallow a scream.

"Hello?" Toni called, but not really. It was more of a rasp that puffed from her throat, barely there enough to stir the air let alone reach anyone's ears. When she turned the corner, her eyes alight on a shape in the far corner of double-horse stall that was outfitted with a boxing ring.

It was Bucky, shirtless, laying into one of the iron-enforced beams that stretched into the rafters. Blood ran down his hands from cuts littering his knuckles, and he was barefoot despite the snow outside and the frigid temperatures. Toni watched for longer than she probably should have, because it just meant Bucky continued long enough to dislocated a few of his fingers on a sloppy swing. Pulling his hand back with a muffled curse in Russian, he finally looked up, froze when he saw her.

Her, still in her pajamas, but with boots and a coat, hair tangled, bloody bandages on her arms from where she pried the transmitters out with a rusty knife. Ghosts swimming under every exposed inch of skin. Her ghosts and his should get together, have a party- maybe then they would leave them alone.

"I won't tell if you don't," she breathed. Bucky nodded, once, and jammed his fingers back into place with a muffled scream.

She sat next to him and listened to every noise of pain, every strangled cry, until she was sure the only reason his hands weren't completely mangled was because of the supersoldier serum coursing through his veins. Eventually he shifted style, upper arms cutting across the wood, feet bearing into it. When he fell down next to her with a huff, there were splinters growing from his skin.

"How do you do it?" Toni asked, looking over at Bucky as he panted, breath fogging out like fire from between his lips. "Deal with him. Then and now. He's so..."

"Perfect?" Bucky murmured, and Toni nodded, feeling sick to her stomach.

"Yeah. That."

Bucky snorted and ran bloody fingers through his unruly hair.

"I've got no idea, sweetheart. I guess I figured... if I don't have him, I don't really have anyone. And I'm too much of a coward to give him up."

_Too much of a coward._

That sounded about right.

Toni looked out the far barn doors, and wondered how long it would be before either of them found their courage.

*

Day Eight

Hereafter known as _The Day Toni set Everything on Fire_ , no one would mention this day for the rest of their natural lives, one forest fire and several stony silences later.

                Steve did not talk to Toni, Toni did not talk to Steve. Only Natasha noticed the unhealed blood on Bucky's knuckles and kept him from sneaking off when Steve didn't notice.

                Christmas music blared throughout the house, but no one felt any happier. Except maybe Lucky the dog, because she got everyone's abandoned dinner.

*

Day Nine

Uneventful. Until everyone tried to sleep, and it became apparent just how fractured the Avenger's Power Couple really was. Their voices drifted through the wooden walls of the house to every would-be sleeping ear, the thud of something being thrown, the echo of fury shared between immortals.

                The fury of lovers, when Steve saw the bandages on Toni's arms and Lucky smelled dried blood on Clint's barn tools.

*

"This is better than alcohol though, right, Steve?" Toni countered, shoving him backwards towards their bed with a snarl. "Better a compulsive creator than a shitfaced ex-CEO!"

                "That was for your own good! Even Pepper was worried-"

                "Oh drag Pepper into this, _nice_ move!"

                "This isn't about Pepper, this is about you taking care of yourself, and you haven't been by any stretch of the imagination! You cut yourself _with a rusty knife_ , Toni!" Steve yelled, and through the paper-thin walls of the house everyone heard him without even trying.

                "No, I carefully removed the transmitters!" Toni screamed back. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? Toni Stark, not Iron Man? Me defenseless! No booze, no suit, no nothing, well _news flash_ Steve, I don't know how to _not_ fuck up the things I love and nothing you do will ever change that!"

                At the last, without even seeming to realize what she was doing, she lifted an arm and her hand came crashing down against the side of Steve's face with surprising force. Enough to leave a red mark on a super-soldier, and knock off the equilibrium of anyone else who had been on its receiving end.

                Ears ringing, Toni looked first at Steve's shocked face, then her hand, and pulled her bandaged arms against her chest. Her head shook back and forth slowly, but she didn't move away from him and the fire in her eyes didn't dim.

                "You think I'm broken, that I'm weak, that I depend too much on the armor, and maybe you're right, but what am I without, Steve? _What am I without it_?" she demanded, eyes flooding with tears that wouldn't fall, defiant to the last. "I'm vulnerable. And so are you, and Bruce, and Pepper, and everyone else. I'm sorry I broke my promise, but... it's kind of my thing, remember?"            

                Before he could say anything else she turned away, and flung open their bedroom door.

                "I'll leave it open in case Bucky has more nightmares," she murmured, but the undercurrent in her voice was enough to bite.

                Then she was gone, and there was nothing but the gaping darkness of the hallway to keep him company.

*

Day Ten

It was only a few days until Christmas, but somehow everyone was too keyed up to notice. Still, one morning found all of them downstairs and relatively at ease. Not accounting for the undercurrent of tension that practically lit the air around them, of course.

                At some point between coming downstairs and slipping into the kitchen, Steve had turned on the radio, perhaps in a misguided attempt to dispel the atmosphere of gloom, the dark energy that hung crackling over Toni's head or the shadows that colored Bucky's stormy eyes. Now pleasant Christmas music filtered throughout the downstairs of the house in the dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra, Michael Bublé, and Idina Menzel.

                Steve stared half-heartedly at his plate of pumpkin spice pancakes and eggs before giving up, and letting his head come to rest on his arms. Beside him slumped over in her chair with a glass or green health smoothie, Toni looked equally exhausted, face pale and drawn. The hand that held her glass was trembling as she lifted it to her lips, a reminder of the late-night-fight that had kept most of them awake. Across from them Bucky had his face in his hands, elbows propping him up on the table while he completely ignored his own super-soldier-sized breakfast.

                In the living room, however, things were slightly... well, if the word "perky" could be applied to two figures practically comatose on the couch and armchair- Thor and Bruce- listening with deaf ears to Christmas music. They were at least more alive looking than the people in the kitchen, Thor humming of-key to the radio and Bruce watching the fire with bright, alert, if not necessarily free of ghosts.

                But two figures still glowed brightly, and nothing could shroud their illumination when they started to sing.

                " _I really can't stay_ -" They outshone the radio version playing softly behind them, Natasha taking the male parts and Clint the female's from where they were curled up on the couch.

                " _Baby it' cold outside_ -"

                " _I've got to go home_ -"

                " _Baby it's cold outside_ -"

                " _I wish I knew how, to break the spell_ ," Clint's voice was surprisingly honeyed, strong and not tired in the least. He carried the melody to every corner of the room as he reached for Natasha's hand from his perch on the back of the couch. When she took it their fingers interlaced, resting on her shoulder as she picked up the next verse.

                " _I'll take your hand and walk you home_." Her voice is raspy and tired, but there is a slow, bluesy quality that warms the room each time she parts her lips. She compliments Clint's oaky tones perfectly. Sound twines together in the room like candy cane stripes- suddenly, it felt like Christmas.

                " _But baby it's cold... out... now_!"

                As the sweet found faded into oblivion, the living room found itself eerily quiet, with the exception of the crackling of the fire.

                Natasha leveled a gaze at everyone in the room, but Clint's eyes were half-closed and he seemed too blissful to rejoin the real world yet. He was all and only eyes for Natasha.

                "Wait, who turned off the radio?" Clint looked around in confusion, and suddenly the light that he and Natasha had been holding in their voices burst across the room like a thousand specks of light from a dying star. Color flooded the leaping tongues of flame in the fireplace and warmth fused into Bruce's bright face, hand falling gently from the radio. Thor was grinning with Lucky wagging her tail at his feet. In the kitchen Bucky was still the closest he had been to smiling all morning.

                "Please don't," Toni murmured when Steve wound an arm around her shoulders. His finger stilled before brushing her hair, breath wafting against her neck.

                "What?" In the living room Natasha had pulled Clint down and was sitting on him, Thor was cuddling with Lucky. Firelight glinted in Bruce's depthless brown eyes. The whole scene seemed to glow, and with the gently falling snow just beyond the windows they could have been the illustration in a children's book.

                _The Avengers at Christmas_ , Steve almost smiled, before he became aware of how cold and unyielding Toni was beside him.

                "Apologize," Toni said, looking down and away at the rough floorboards. "It's just the fuzzy Christmas feelings talking."

                "No, it's the fuzzy patriotism which compels him to love all things," Bucky moaned from the other side of the table. Steve almost-smiled again, but didn't, because it was an overused joke. The other Avengers sometimes like to pretend that Steve alone was blameless, because the glow of Captain America wasn't so reassuring when Cap was a murderer. Of course, they all knew Steve Rogers, cared for him, but the stars and stripes and baby blue eyes were easier to take in sometimes than a soldier as wrecked as they were. They didn't always do it consciously, but now Bucky's comment- reviving the façade and insinuating again that Steve shouldn't love him- left a sour taste in his mouth.

                He had killed, had been a solider then and again now, and he didn't see the faces of those he killed. He didn't dream about them.

                But sometimes he felt the weight of them all the same, a reminder that Bucky was slowly being crushed by it, no matter their therapy session yesterday morning.

                "It's the fact that I love _you_ ," Steve murmured, looking over at Toni, who still wasn't looking at him. Her hand on her glass tightened, though, and her eyes started to gleam.

                "I'm still mad, Rogers," she said half-heartedly.

                "I know, I am too, but... I'm sorry. I just-"

                "Worry," she murmured. "You always worry."

                "Only because I care, and because the idea of your hurting yourself is... more than I can handle," Steve said. Toni didn't reply, so Steve leaned back in his chair. "At least let me look at your arms, they might get infected."

                Toni squeezed her eyes shut, and when they opened they were clear, but she looked across the room when she stretched one bandaged arm out to Steve. The relief on his face was palpable when he rose.

                "I'll go get the first aid kit."

                In the other room, Clint and Natasha had started singing again. This time, "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas."

*

Day Eleven

Now that it finally felt like Christmas, the house had come alive, the Avengers more of a team in some ways, and more a family in others.

Natasha was baking up a storm. All along the counters, pumpkin bread, banana bread, gingersnaps, chocolate-mint cookies, sugar cookies with red and green icing, cupcakes, and even peanut brittles sent curls of steam rising into the air to fill it with the scent of Christmas.

                Of course, no one dared to _taste_ any of the succulent morsels, if only out of fear of Natasha with a wooden spoon, and not out of any weak desire to cram their faces with everything edible in sight.

                Morosely, Toni floated just outside the kitchen door as Natasha spooned another bowl of pumpkin bread mix into a greased pan, humming _The Nutcracker_ in accompaniment to the red and black ipod on the counter dock. Her stomach growled angrily, and she clenched it with pleading fingers.

                "Come on, Nat!" she cried when the bread was pushed into the oven. "Have mercy!"

                "Step one foot in this kitchen, and I'll rip the arc reactor out of your chest," the ex-assassin said, as though she were relaying the day's forecast, or commenting on the quality of the peppermint brownies she just pulled from the second oven.

                "You're killing Steve!" she exclaimed, gesturing to Steve's prone figure. He was lying on the floor with his feet towards the living room, face pressed against the hardwood, wearing nothing but his plaid pajama pants and a grey sleep shirt.

                "Naaaaaaat," the American Icon and current Starving Hero moaned.

                "I remember what happened at Thanksgiving," Nat said, eyes narrowing at what would have otherwise been a pitiable display.

                "Morning everyone! I smelled something good." Toni's head whipped around to take in Bucky, in sweats and nothing else, padding into the living room. He sniffed the air appreciatively and let his eyes slide half-closed.

                "I made pumpkin waffles, want some, James?" Nat asked, poking her head out of the kitchen. There was a bowl of orange waffle mix under her arms, spoon paused mid-stir. Toni practically dunked her head in it but Nat moved just in time, sticking out an ankle to trip Toni before shoving her back into the living room. She landed on top of Steve in a heap and let out her own moan.

                "Thanks, _Natashenka_ ," Bucky purred, slipping into the kitchen and making straight for the mound of golden waffles in the middle of the table. Before he could get there, though, Natasha's hand darted out and grabbed his. Hardly anyone saw the movement, but her green eyes scanned the skin of his hand, darted down to his feet, before she nodded and let him go. His eyes had softened during her inspection and he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

                "I'm sorry," he whispered. She nodded, before raising her voice again.

                "Help yourself. There's pumpkin bread too, but don't touch the candy- that's for later," Natasha directed as Bucky took a bite of a waffle and Toni's heart slowly died.

                "What's later?" Clint asked out of nowhere. Toni didn't even question how he had gotten into the kitchen, much less why Natasha was letting him _stay._

"We're building a gingerbread house," Natasha said. When Clint reached for a waffle too, she smacked his hand with a spoon.

                " _Ow!_ What was that for!?"

                "No touching the food."

                "Bucky gets some and not me?"

                "It's his first Christmas as a free man. He can do whatever he wants."

                Bucky choked on his waffle at that, looking at Natasha in stunned disbelief, then at Clint's heartbroken expression. His laugh was warm as it rolled past the food in his mouth, to a chorus of wails from Steve, Toni, and Clint.

                "Why doesn't someone get a tree?" Sam piped in from the stairs. "I mean, it's Christmas Eve, guys, and those presents are looking a little lonely."

                Suddenly Steve got a sharp look on his face, and he turned to Clint curiously.

                "Are there evergreens growing here?" he asked. Clint, half-distracted trying to sneak a gingerbread man, nodded.

                "Yeah, just beyond the treeline there's a small group-"

                "I'll get the tree!" Steve declares, striding towards the door. Even this gets Toni off the floor, staring at him in disbelief as Clint snaps to his senses.

                "Steve, you can't just _cut down a tree_ ," he said.

                Steve turned, door half-open, coat and gloves already on. "On va voir," he said. Then he was gone, and Bucky groaned.

                " _On va voir_?" Clint yelled, rushing after him. "There is no _On va voir,_ Steve!"

                Bucky pulled himself up from the table and gave his waffles a longing look. "Uh-hu, French it up, Steve. You're not doing anything that stupid without me, punk."

                "This is bullshit! Steve!"

                Clint and Bucky were out the door soon after Steve, and with a careful look Natasha shoved her mixing bowl into Sam's hands and leapt over the back of the couch to get to the door.

                " _My uvidim_ ," she grinned.

                " _NO ONE SPEAKS RUSSIAN, NAT!"_ Sam yelled.

                But he was alone. Bruce put a hand on his shoulder and yawned widely.

                "I spent a whole summer with the guy, and he never did anything like this!" Sam incredulously.

                Bruce just shrugged and went to get coffee from the now-liberated kitchen.

                "Personally, I like the name 'Stupid Squad' for those four," Toni grumbled. "Now come on, someone needs to keep baking while Nat's gone. I nominate Sam!"

                "Seconded!" Thor bounded down the stairs, and Bruce raised a tired hand.

                Toni looked at Sam triumphantly. "And there's the third. Bake up, Falcon! I'm hungry."

                Sam shook his head and waved the waffle-coated spoon threateningly. "Oh no, if I'm baking, you three are banished from the kitchen."

                Another chorus of wails, and Sam started to realize why Natasha liked power so much. After a while, though, he had to let the starving ones in and feed them, carefully keeping away from Natasha's pre-made snacks.

"On Asgard we celebrate winter also, but in a slightly different form. We do not have this 'Santa Claus' you speak of," Thor said through a mouthful of waffles as they sat around the table.

"We don't either. He's just a saint that Hallmark got its grubby paws on," Toni explained. Thor nodded seriously.

"Ah. That explains much- so there is truly no threat of this Santa Claus observing our behavior?"

Toni snorted. "Nope. We're good, buddy."

*

When Steve returned, he and Bucky were carrying a tree over their shoulders, Natasha carried the ax, and Clint had resigned himself to vacuuming up the pine needles that littered the foyer once it was set up. It was tall and evergreen, and Toni thought it smelled like Christmas more than any of the candles Pepper had set up.

All of them worked together to decorate it, and Clint was the one who hung from the banister to top it with a large glass star that refracted the sunlight coming through the skylights. Littered with fake snow, snowflakes, round red ornaments and strings of popcorn and cranberries, it looked like the trees Toni had had as a child. Regal, grand, elegant. Trunk completely surrounded by presents.

At the end of their mighty work they all drank cider and played Christmas taboo, and each felt like a child but it didn't matter. It was Christmas Eve, and everything was... well, things were pretty alright.

*

Toni woke in the middle of the night with a headache and a craving for apple cider- with gin on the side. Or maybe the other way around.

Steve's face pressed closer into her neck when she tried to move, massive arms tightening over her waist.

"Come on, Steve, _move_ ," she muttered in the dark as she attempted to squirm from his arms. When she kissed his forehead he relaxed enough for her to move his arm, essentially liberating herself from the super soldier's embrace.

"Toni..." Steve murmured.

"Love you," she whispered back, and let a hand longer on his cheek.

When she was finally sitting up on the edge of the bed she came to the unsettling discovery that away from Steve's organic space-heater, the room was _cold_. Frostbite-for-touching-the-floor cold.

It was dark, except for the occasional twinkle of the lights on the tree and the glow of red mistletoe berries in the moonlight filtering through the skylight. All through the house it was quiet like the poem Toni's father used to read to her, when he was home for Christmas and the liqueur was locked up. As she crept down the hall she prayed the old floorboards weren't-

 Creaky. She sighed.

"Thor?" she whispered, upon reaching the stairs and seeing the hunched figure on the couch, head bowed before the tree. Underneath presents crowded, all colors and shapes and sizes and it made Toni's chest ache but not in a reactor-type way, in the way that forced unpleasant memories through her mind. Unpleasant in that they were all happy and hazy like a montage from a Christmas family flick, in that there so painfully few in which her father was there or her mother was smiling.

"Thor," she said again, and this time the massive god stirred, turning to look at her with a face as etched as the name on a grave.

"Antonia," he rumbled softly, with a barely-contained sigh.

"I don't know how you do things on Asgard, but here one traditionally goes to sleep the night before Christmas."

Thor sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face, casting Toni a sorrowful look. She lingered on the edge of the stairs. One hand tightened on the banister before she pushed away before she went to sit on the couch by Thor. Hands clasped, she looked over at him with a clearly curious expression.

"It was..." he began, then swallowed thickly. His blue eyes shone as they looked at the star on the top of the tree. "When we were boys, Loki and I used to compete, as to who could give mother and father the greatest gift."

Toni saw how it would have played out with dreadful certainty, heart sinking.

"As we grew and Loki's magic progressed, he began taking charge of decorating for the season. Glowing holly and trees the size of bilgesnipe lined the halls, music played in every corridor and there was even snow in our father's hall, although it never touched the ground. That was his gift- wonder, and light, and our father even made him the Master of Festivities, a grand honor. I still remember the year he captured actual starlight, for the top of the royal tree. It glowed until the very end of the season."

Thor was drowning. As someone who had frequently lost breath over bad memories, Toni knew the expression that twisted over her normally jovial teammate, and it hurt in a way she hadn't realized anything connected to Loki could. It wasn't often that she was reminded that Earth's mass murderer was still just Thor's baby brother, and that he wasn't just imprisoned anymore- he was dead. None of them had even stopped to question Thor's loss.

Shame beat on her temples.

"You don't need to pretend he doesn't exist," Toni said suddenly, squeezing his shoulder and offering a tight-lipped smile. "Whatever he did here, he's still your brother- we all know that."

Thor nodded, eyes still shimmering.

"Thank you, Antonia," he murmured. "Would you mind, then, if I..."

For a moment there was tense silence, before Thor dug his hand into the air and something started glowing softly in the middle of his fist. Toni's eyebrows raised minutely at the display of Asgardian magic.

Thor looked almost sheepish.

"After the star burned out, there was a small amount left. Only enough for a few days, but..."

"Of course, Thor," Toni said. Thor rose and strode over to the tree, then raised the fist holding the starlight to his mouth. Gently he blew, and from between his fingers came soft, shimmering flecks of light. They floated across the dark living space and settled on the tree, glowing like specks of dew and making the tree absolutely radiant, as if a hundred cold blue fireflies had found resting places in the branches. A final, largest piece rose and alight in the center of the glass star, lighting it up like- well, a star.

"It's beautiful, Thor," Toni said, but couldn't stop herself from adding, "But did it ever occur to you... was killing a star worth it? I mean, he took the light, right? Then what was left?"

                Thor's face could have make a stone weep, and his hands tightened on his knees.

                "A dark hole in the universe. Such was it always with Loki- good intentions, and ruin left behind. Thank you. For listening, and for understanding," Thor replied. "Perhaps I shall sleep easier now, knowing that Loki has given his gift."

He rose and climbed the stairs with barely a sound, a small reminder that he was a warrior still, but on the top step he paused and looked back at her. Toni was reminded again that no matter how foreign Midgard may be to him, he was still hundreds of years old, and wise in his own way.

"I know that you and Steve have not been cordial of late, but I cannot forget your behavior when you first began courting. You are lucky, to have what you do, and perhaps this rift between you is not so large as it may seem," he murmured. Toni swallowed and looked away, shame burning her cheeks. She and Thor should know best to keep their loved ones close while they had them, but somehow Toni had chosen to ignore that lesson. "Good night, Antonia."

 As he disappeared into the upper hall Toni saw his shoulders slump minutely.

She didn't go to sleep until long after the clock read midnight, staring up at the star and wondering.

*

Day Twelve

Bucky woke up with his arm wrapped in shiny green wrapping paper and a red bow, and that just about set the tone for the morning to come.

                Christmas music blared while Natasha let everyone chow down on her baked goods from the other day, giving Bucky a kiss on the cheek every once and a while as he tried to free himself from ten layers of wrapping paper, and then kissing Clint on the mouth every time he looked jealous. Sam and Steve spent the time before presents making snowmen, while Thor made cider and Toni discretely pointed him towards the alcohol she'd had the foresight to bring along with her suit (she did feel a bit guilty now).

                Still in their pajamas, all of the Avengers quickly tore into the presents, from Pepper, each other, even a few from Fury, but the greatest gift among the gags, gadgets, and Iron Man t-shirts (from Toni, to everyone), was when Natasha stood up on the couch and crossed her arms.

                "If I could have your attention," she said, and instantly the room quieted. "Clint would like me to tell you..." she looked down at him, and he grinned, and a small smile wormed its way onto her face. “That our gift to you, is... going to be a bit late. By nine months, actually."

                Toni's jaw dropped just as everyone else caught on to what she was saying. She dropped the new toolkit she'd just opened and shot to her feet, instinctively grabbing for Steve.

                "Seriously?" she exclaimed. "Ohmygod this is amazing! Oh, I call godmother! This little ninja is going to have a nursery and moving crib and I could even make baby-safe ninja gadgets!"

                "This is wonderful news!" Thor cried, sweeping Clint and Natasha into a tight embrace, which they returned warmly. "I am happy for you, friends. New life is certainly something to celebrate."

                "Thank you. I hope it is, at least," Natasha said. Then Clint was wrapping himself around her and they were kissing again, and the glow in the room could have put the sun to shame.

*

Thor took a large swig of spiked cider, and Toni shrugged and followed suit. As a pleasant buzz began to sink into her bones she let a grin take over her normally severe straight-line lips. Of course, Steve, Thor, and Bucky all looked unaffected no matter how much they drank, so soon it was apparent that Toni, Clint, and Sam were the only drunk ones amid the mountain of ripped paper and gifts. Unfortunately, Sam was smart enough to stop at some point. Natasha, being pregnant, hadn't had any of the spiked cider at all, and looked thoroughly put out about it even hours after the announcement.

Toni did a quick calculation and came to the conclusion that her sobriety didn't really matter. By the love-struck eyes Clint was giving Natasha, Toni guessed his was already gone.

"You need to bring some of that Asgardian ale you had at our anniversary party," Toni slurred in Thor's general direction. The god's face lit up.

"I was under the impression that it was not welcome, as it undermined several of our teammate's faculties."

"That's a good thing, Thor. They need to loosen up every once and a while- what's the fun when I'm the only one around here who ever gets shitfaced?" She ignored Steve's stern look, but slid him her hand across the couch and squeezed, to let him know she was being careful. Neither of them was ready to revisit or relive their fight of a few nights ago, so after this drink she resolved to only have the clean stuff.

"I shall have my friends deliver several casks tomorrow. Would any of you object to their presence at a grand winter feast? It is tradition on Asgard and from what I have gathered, here as well. Although- with all respect- I doubt that any Midgardian festivity could rival the revelries of my father's hall on Yuletide morn." Thor looked around at all of them- Sam pleasantly buzzed, Toni stopped before she got too far, and the rest as stone-cold sober as they had ever been- with polite inquiry, and gradually they all nodded.

"I don't see why not," Steve said at length. "I don't really think any of us have had a normal Christmas, so we might as well see how you celebrate it."

Thor's grin was massive and he poured himself another hearty dose of cider in celebration.

"It shall be a night to remember, truly."

*

It was.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment!! I love them...


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